


Set fire

by an_apple_for_him



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 00:58:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11817879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_apple_for_him/pseuds/an_apple_for_him
Summary: Grillby never knew anything but Snowdin, the stories he heard from the regulars all he had to go off of for the rest of the underground. When a group of skeletons come to town, he gains a new perspective, along with some new experiences.





	1. Chapter 1

It was another busy night. He couldn’t count the dishes he had to clean, and struggled not to steal fries from the meals he served. His father meanwhile, had the simple of job of chatting with customers and ordering him around. Sure, it was a way to pass the time, but was it ever loathsome. He hated the smell of the gloves he wore to protect his hands from the water. He hated the sound of day old patties frying on the little grill that kept him company. Mostly though, he hated how lonely it was in the back.

He brought food out to tables, but the people never wanted to talk. Sometimes they wouldn’t even thank him for it, simply eyeing him down until he turned to return to his station. It was horrifically lonely. He could hear all the chatter outside the doors, just loud enough that each conversation blurred into each other and he couldn’t tell what anyone was saying. The sound of bells reached him from the front door and he sighed, violently scrubbing at a stubborn bit of food on a plate. Another customer, that meant another meal, another couple of plates to clean. He tried to hold back his sigh.

Gradually though, he heard the chatter die down, getting replaced by silence. He stopped his cleaning, turning to look out the door. Had something happened?

He took a few steps toward the door, opening it enough to peer out and into the bar. At the front door stood a tall man, dressed in all black. The man was pale, and looked to be made of bone. He frowned, only drawing one conclusion as to who this could be that seemed impossible.

 _A skeleton_.

He saw two other people with the tall man, one who was about half the size of the first, wearing a t-shirt with a smart science pun on it, and one who was even shorter, wearing a red scarf that seemed to swallow him. All three seemed to be made of bone. He couldn’t identify any organs at all. Skeletons, he thought once again. He knew it was impolite to stare at guests, he tried to pull away from the door, from where he was stuck, staring.

It was just that he had never seen a skeleton before.

He had never even imagined they were still around.

He watched as the continued in, as the tallest generated two hands by his face, mouth unmoving. His hands had large holes through them, which made some of the motions seem a bit jerky. The hands gestured as words spilled from him. “Go and sit down. I will pay for your meals.” Everyone’s attention was glued to the newcomers.

 _How does one speak without motion of the mouth? How could he hear and understand when those gestures and that voice was so unfamiliar?_ He looked to his father, calm, waiting. He wondered how his father could be so calm in the presence of these, things he had never once witnessed. He glanced back to the group stood by the door.

The medium sized skeleton was looking at him, watching him. Dark black eyes were watching him. He didn’t even know if he could call them eyes. Specks of white in a void, replicating the look of eyes. Those were used to observe. He was being observed. He was frozen for a moment, staring back. Skeletons. He couldn’t get over that.

He couldn’t tell if he was in awe or was feeling something else entirely. He blinked, tried to break away from his fascination. He glanced across to his father, once again. He was walking over, still totally calm. He pulled himself away from the door, allowing his father to enter and shut the door.

He leaned heavily against the door as he looked at his father, who stood before him, rummaging through the fridge. “You know who they are, don’t you Grillby?” His father asked.

“They are skeletons.” He replied quietly. “I thought all skeletons died in the war? Isn’t that what you said?”

His father smiled, shutting the fridge and placing a chunk of meat on the counter. “Yes, they are skeletons. Many skeletons fought in the war against the humans, as did many other monsters and myself.” Grillby nodded, acknowledging what his father said. “But that tall skeleton who you saw, the one who created more hands to speak with? That skeleton is incredibly intelligent, and is very close to King Asgore, and his name is Dr. Gaster. He has brought two colleagues with him. We will treat them the best we can while they are here, do you understand?”

Once again, Grillby nodded. He understood. His father reached out and patted his shoulder. “I’ll go see what our esteemed guests would like to eat.” He said, pushing open the door and going over to the table. The chatter had resumed, somewhat quieter than before. He heard a couple bits and pieces of gossip through the door, examining what his father took from the fridge.

“Is that really the Royal scientist?” Said one voice.

“Don’t know how many other skeletons are still kicking around. Wonder what he’s doing in Snowdin?” Queried another.

“Whatever it is I want him to get it over with and get back to the Hotlands where they came from, we don’t need his kinda folk kicking around Snowdin performing all sorts of experiments.”

He took a knife and began to pry apart the patties from the parchment paper between them. So, he’d have to draw his own conclusions about these guests. His father came back in with a slip of paper. “Think you’ll be able to manage this?” His father joked.

He took the slip of paper, looking over the order. Two burgers, one with fries and one without. “I should be able to make it work.” He replied, placing it on the line and getting started while his father returned to his place behind the bar.

The basics. He placed the meat on the grill. Plopped the fries into the bubbling oil and toasted the buns in his hands. He poked his head out of the door while he waited for everything to cook. He prepared and plated everything, before going to walk through the door, where he stopped.

His heart rate was normal, as far as he could tell, and he didn’t feel any other symptoms he usually would. He just felt incapable of moving forward. It had to be something. He started to breathe deeply, perhaps it was just nerves.

His mind flickered back to the skeleton who had been watching him. Was it something in that look? He didn’t know, couldn’t tell. He knew there was no reason to feel nervous. He sighed. It was just the fact that they were more respected guests than the usual, he supposed.  
He took another deep breath, determined to push onwards. It seemed like it had returned to how it normally was. He looked around for the skeletons, his customers. The tall skeleton - the Royal Scientist – was sat at the bar, talking with Grillby’s father. The other two however, were a bit harder to spot.

He moved further out into the bar, looking around. He should’ve watched where they went to sit down. He got stuck behind a particularly large group of doggos, all sentries. Eventually, he squeezed past, making it closer to where the booths were. He heard an unfamiliar voice, and followed it.

The two were talking. “Have you ever been to Snowdin brother? I have never seen so much snow! This is nothing like the Hotlands!” Said an excited voice. “I hear that the youngest sentry in the underground lives here! Do you think she’ll train me?”

“That’s great bro. Maybe she’ll take you in when you’re a bit older.” The other replied, much calmer than his brother. Grillby moved closer, lifting the plates slightly to get over the heads of a couple customers.

Grillby cleared his throat as he reached the table. “Two orders of the Flint original?” He declared, getting both brothers’ attention.  
Their eyes were glowing. The older of the two seemed to notice it sooner than his brother, blinking and extinguishing the light. “Sorry about that, it’s been a long trip here, guess our eyes really lit up when we saw you coming with our dinner.” He joked. His voice was nice. It reminded Grillby of old mobsters in some of the movies his father liked to watch, but it wasn’t unpleasant. “I dunno about my brother here, but I can’t wait to get stuck in.”

Grillby placed the plates on the table, watching as the younger of the two seemed to grow increasingly excited at the sight of his food. It was almost amusing, but he didn’t dare risk laughter. “Then by all means, don’t let me hold you back.” He replied, knowing his voice was rather quiet.

The older skeleton had his hands slightly, signing along as he spoke. “Thanks kid. This looks amazing.” He said. He then turned to his younger brother, who looked eager to dig in. “Now what do we say Papyrus?”

“Thank you mister!” Papyrus exclaimed, beaming up at Grillby.

Grillby smiled back. He hardly ever received compliments on his meals. “Bone-appetite.” He said after a moment, taking a step away from the table and beginning to walk away.

He heard laughter erupt from the table behind him. It was a big laugh. His pun had been received. He made his way toward the kitchen but stopped when his father called him over. He moved closer to where his father was stood, talking with the tallest skeleton. Now Grillby noticed he was dressed quite smartly, a black sweater with a white shirt underneath. Appearance must be important to him. “Dr. Gaster, this is my son, Grillby. He is my most trusted employee here.”

The man had scarring on his face and on his arms. The holes in his hands, Grillby noticed, seemed to have been made intentionally with the use of a laser. The edges were clean, but rough. It struck Grillby as odd, they were clearly intentional, but for what purpose. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Grillby.” The man said, extending a hand.

Grillby eyed it curiously, unsure how to approach it. He extended his own hand hesitantly. Did he shake his hand like anyone else, what if he got his fingers stuck in the hole in some inexplicably awkward and inconvenient circumstance? Would that be rude? He took Gaster’s hand, tentative to avoid any from of discomfort. “Pleasure to meet you too Dr. Gaster.” He answered, shaking his hand firmly.

He released Gaster’s hand the moment the already slack grip loosened. He was surprised by how gentle the professor’s grip was. You’d expect a firmer handshake from someone with such high social standing. “Dr. Gaster and his two boys are spending some time around Snowdin investigating the core’s effects outside of the Hotlands. He’s been telling me all about them, and how Papyrus would appreciate a buddy while Sans and Gaster are hard at work in the lab.” Grillby’s father told him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Gaster smiled, nodding in agreement. “Sans is my helper in the lab, and we keep ourselves busy enough, but my dear Papyrus is not quite as scientifically inclined as his brother. I’m sure he would appreciate the company.” He added, bony fingers clicking against the rim of his glass. Grillby glanced over to where the boys sat.

They were talking happily with each other. Now he knew their names. That made things much easier. “That’d be fun, don’t you think Grillby?” He felt his father squeeze his shoulder, and nodded in agreement. He kept watching the two. Spending more time with them. He grew nervous, what would he say? What would they do? He was certain they’d have nothing in common.

He brushed off his father’s hand. “If you’ll excuse me, I have dishes to do.” He said lightly, starting to turn away as he caught a glimpse of Sans getting up and making his way over toward the counter.

“Hey Boss.” He greeted coolly, pulling himself up onto the bar stool and making sure to acknowledge each person in the group. It was friendly enough, but the moment his eyes fell upon Gaster, that friendliness seemed to fade. “I’m gonna take Papyrus back home. It’s getting a bit late for him, and he’s insisting I give him a bed time story.” He radiated calmness as he spoke. His eyes were glowing softly again, a darker blue. It was interesting. Papyrus made a defiant squeak, trying to deny the fact that he wanted a story.

He then turned to look at Grillby. “Compliments to the chef, food here is exceptional, the best I’ve ever tasted.” He declared proudly. He then turned to Gaster, placing a hand on his shoulder and patting it lightly before winking at Grillby. “Leave a good tip, won’t you boss?”  
And just like that, he slid off the bar stool, making his way over to Papyrus and taking his hand gently. Papyrus seemed a bit annoyed, but followed his brother out without argument. Grillby watched as they left. Gaster laughed to himself. “I could swear they are inseparable.” He muttered, a hint of disdain in his voice. Grillby turned to look at Gaster for a moment before dismissing himself, returning to the kitchen to clean dishes once again.

So, those were skeletons, huh?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something has gone wrong.

The three of them became quite regular customers at the bar. After a few times, customers stopped staring when they entered the room, and business seemed to be just as usual. He’d see Sans and Papyrus chatting with some of the people who frequent the bar, always together. Grillby’s father had him helping at the bar increasingly often, serving drinks rather than burgers. Grillby was closing more often, as his father was heading to bed earlier these days. Then again, his father was starting to get up there in the years, and clearly preferred drinks and chatting with Gaster to serving rambunctious monsters.

He had plenty of opportunity to observe the skeletons over the next few months. Notice how they interact with other people, with one another. It had been quite intriguing. Sans was a bit quieter, normally just cracking jokes rather than indulging in any serious matters. Papyrus meanwhile was trying to learn all that he could from the sentries. Often they’d just brush him off, and Sans would invite him to go and talk to some other people. Sometimes the sentries tried to mock Papyrus’ eagerness to learn new information. That was when Sans would interject, eyes glowing bright blue as he entered the conversation. A warning sign, Grillby had come to learn. The sentries would immediately lay off and were reluctant to do so again.

Gaster always sat at the seat on the edge of the bar. Him and Grillby’s father would remain there, discussing things about the war and about modern times in the underground. Gaster seemed uninvolved with the two brothers, other than Sans going to him to ask for permissions from time to time. Grillby had all the liberties he wanted, he was practically in charge of everything but the bills. He even had a fair few conversations with Sans after Papyrus had gone to bed. He would sit at the opposite end of the bar to Gaster, and would wait for Grillby to finish up the last few orders before sparking up a conversation.

Their conversations always felt much more personal. Sans learnt quickly that Grillby preferred not to talk as much, and hence made most of the discussions. He would talk about the experiments he and Gaster had planned for in Snowdin, and always had something to say about what his brother was up to. Grillby liked talking with Sans. It was always good conversation, and he always felt totally comfortable, even starting to talk a bit more with Sans as time wore on. He also really liked the way Sans’ eyes would occasionally start to glow when he got passionate about a subject. He didn’t like how embarrassed Sans got because of it though.

The skeletons were regular customers now. Everyone expected them and no one was surprised to see them. Grillby even found the potential for conversation exciting, something he had never been a fan of before.

So when they didn’t come for several days, it was only natural that Grillby began to grow concerned.

He was still tending the bar with his father, and the few monsters that did engage in conversation with him were normally just commenting on how it was cool that he was made of fire and that the fact that his clothes didn’t burn off astounded them. It seemed to go right over their heads that all monsters were capable of magic, and it just so happened magic can be employed to make clothing flame retardant.  
He would watch the door obsessively, impatiently waiting for the skeletons to return. He didn’t want to admit, but he missed them, missed the conversation they always made. He hoped for a break from the repetitive questions he suffered through.

They didn’t show until around nine days later. Papyrus entered first, holding Sans’ hand as was their usual. Or at least it would have been usual, had Papyrus not looked so tense. Sans followed him in sluggishly, a large baggy hoody covering him with the hood drawn up to hide his face. His gaze didn’t shift from the ground. Gaster followed the two in, looking as he always did. The massive gash in his skull a n exception to that though.

“Let’s go take a seat, brother.” Papyrus suggested. Sans nodded in agreement. They made their way over to their regular booth, Sans scooting in first and Papyrus sitting next to him rather than across from him, shielding him to the outside world.

His father went over to greet Gaster as per usual, Gaster replied with something unusual. “Get me something heavy.” His tone sounded grave. Glancing back over to Sans and Papyrus, Grillby noticed that Papyrus wasn’t saying anything, just staring forward.

Something bad had happened, Grillby could feel it.

He walked toward his father, tapping him on the shoulder before letting him know he was going out to serve customers. He immediately made his way over to where Sans and Papyrus were sitting. “It isn’t that noticeable brother. I’m sure nobody will think anything of it. I certainly don’t think any different of you for it.” Papyrus said, trying to be comforting but bringing more attention to whatever it was that was bugging his brother.

Sans was completely silent. Grillby stepped forward cautiously offering a smile. They were his favourite customers. “Hello Sans and Papyrus, I was beginning to wonder if you’d show up again, is there anything I can get for you today?” Grillby asked, looking at Sans for a moment before shifting his gaze to Papyrus.

Papyrus beamed at him, though Grillby could tell it was a little forced. “Oh, we’d never stop coming here, this is Sans’ favourite place in the whole underground, he told me that a few days ago, right Sans?” Papyrus exclaimed, nudging his brother gently.

No reaction. Grillby noticed as Papyrus’ smile faltered. “Right.” He agreed with himself, glancing down at the little menu card on the table and fiddling with it nervously. “Um, we’ll take two burgers, one with fries and one without please.” He said meekly, handing Grillby the order card.  
Grillby nodded in understanding. “Right away.” He let his gaze turn to Sans once again. He could just barely make out his smile, his face so shadowed over by the hood. Grillby made his way back toward the kitchen. Everything about that interaction bugged him.

Sans’ silence. Papyrus’ overcompensation. Gaster and the brothers usually seemed distant but there was something about this that was just wrong. He used his hands to speed up the cooking process, lazily bunging some fries in the deep fryer before placing a hand on each patty. Intense heat on all sides, that had to count for something.

He listened to them sizzle, going over his past interactions with the skeletons and trying to figure anything out. Sans talked a lot about the core. He had mentioned something about Gaster having a bad eye, which meant he couldn’t glow with both eyes like skeletons normally did. Like he and Papyrus did. He had also mentioned something about experiments on human souls, but it was only ever a mention. Nothing gave him any pointers as to what had happened.

He plated everything as he usually did, carrying it out the door and noticing Gaster was no longer where he was sat. Moving closer he saw Gaster in the booth with Sans and Papyrus. Papyrus was gesturing in conversation with Gaster, the two of them seeming almost casual. Grillby recognized some of what they were saying, but it was all so fast he couldn’t make out a clear conversation.

The only thing he could do was make his presence known, clearing his throat before putting down the plates in front of the brothers. He noticed Sans glance up at him, still as shaded by his hood as ever, but noticeably giving Grillby his attention. He smiled softly in Sans’ direction, hoping to offer some sort of confidence boost. “Let me know if I can get you anything else.” He said softly, ensuring to look at each person to ensure they heard. They all showed signs of acknowledging the statement. Then Grillby turned away, hands clasped in front of him.  
He went to where his father was tending the bar. The skeletons were talking once again, Sans occasionally signing small things. A little confidence boost. He began to gather dirty glasses from behind the counter, taking them to the sink to clean. He’d glance across to the table occasionally. He knew a little bit of sign language, there had been a few late nights he spent trying to figure it out.

The other customers were quiet, compared to their usual volume. He noticed Papyrus get up at one of Gaster’s signs, nodding his head. He hurried over to the bar, leaving Sans and Gaster at the table together. “Excuse me, Grillby, Sans and Gaster would like a glass of water each please.” Papyrus asked, tugging himself up the edge of the counter to look over it.

“Sure thing Papyrus.” Grillby replied, glancing back over at the table. Sans has leaned forward, and he and Gaster seemed to be talking quietly between themselves. Papyrus watched them nervously before turning back to Grillby, pulling himself up and onto a barstool.

Grillby had gotten two glasses, and was just slipping on the dishwashing gloves as a safety precaution. “What’s your favourite colour Grillby?” Papyrus asked, looking at the counter and appearing to be concentrating hard.

Gaster raised his hands to sign something, Sans watched, scooting backward on the bench. The tension could be felt from where Grillby was stood. “My favourite colour?” Grillby asked, placing one of the cups under the tap. He began to fill it up, thinking to himself. “Probably orange.” He said, turning off the tap and placing the glass on the counter by Papyrus. “What is yours?”

A dark blue glow seemed to be seeping from underneath Sans’ hood, and Gaster’s eye was glowing dark purple. Grillby swallowed hard, beginning to fill the second glass. “Probably red.” Papyrus replied, kicking his feet enough that it created a significant amount of momentum on his torso. “Like this scarf Sans made me for my birthday.”

“He made you that?” Grillby asked, leaning forward on the table. Whatever was going down between Sans and Gaster didn’t look to be good, never mind safe. Perhaps he could keep Papyrus from getting involved by making conversation. “When did he find the time? I thought he was a very busy skeleton.”

Papyrus seemed giddy at the opportunity to talk about Sans. “I thought so too! But he surprised me with it. He said he made it all himself, he sewed all the pieces together and everything!” He said, moving so that he was kneeling up on the chair. Grillby noticed Sans had gotten to his feet, as had Gaster. The air seemed to get thicker as they stood, speaking their own silent language. “I haven’t taken it off since he gave it to me, he said he used his magic on it so it’d protect me from everything! He even made it in my favourite colour-.”

“I hate you so much sometimes.” Gaster growled, glaring at Sans like he could murder him any moment.

Sans stood defiantly, glaring right back up. “Get lost, Gaster.” He hissed back, hood falling back slightly to reveal his eye, glowing and sparking around the energy’s center. Papyrus turned on his seat, eyes flashing red. Gaster took another step toward Sans.

Before another word could be spoken, he wrapped a bony hand around Sans’ arm, and they disappeared. Papyrus was left alone.  
The entire bar fell silent once again. The only interruption was Papyrus whispering to himself. “Not again. No. Not again.”

Grillby ran around the other side of the bar, noticing as Papyrus quickly began devolving into tears. “No, no, no! They promised they wouldn’t do this!” He stammered, bringing his hands up to cover his eyes.

“Hey, Papyrus. It’s all going to be alright.” Grillby said hurriedly, setting his hands on Papyrus’ knees and trying to get Papyrus to look at him. “Papyrus? Look at me Papyrus. It will be okay. I am here for you.” He said once again, trying to comfort him. Papyrus looked up at him, tears leaking from the corners of his eye sockets. He didn’t even know skeletons were capable of crying. He crouched down so he was at eye level with Papyrus. “I’m here for you.” He said once again.

Papyrus was shaking, he was crying, he looked horribly distressed. Every pair of eyes were on the two of them, and Grillby felt his throat starting to tighten. This was not something he wanted to be happening right now. “I’m here for you Papyrus, whatever you need.” Grillby said once again, looking Papyrus directly in the eyes.

They were still bright red. Grillby assumed it meant he was scared. Papyrus fell forward, wrapping his arms around Grillby’s neck. Grillby felt a sense of panic fill him as he felt Papyrus sobbing against his shoulder. What was this kid doing? He didn’t understand the gesture. He crouched down even further, allowing papyrus to stand on his legs and support himself. Papyrus was crying.

He needed comforting.

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around Papyrus, rubbing gentle circled in his back. “It will be okay. I am here for you. Whatever you need.” Grillby repeated, forcing himself to breathe normally. Papyrus was surprisingly light, and Grillby glanced around quickly, seeing the burgers were practically untouched.

He waited for Papyrus to collect himself a bit better, but still, Papyrus didn’t let go. “Alright, Papyrus, you’re alright.” He said calmly, allowing Papyrus some space. He noticed that the chatter had started up again, and Papyrus pulled away from Grillby’s shoulder, looking him in the eyes. His arms were still wrapped around Grillby’s neck, and he used one arm to try and dry the tears. Grillby noticed the sweater he was wearing was a bright orange, with a picture of a rabbit. “That is a very nice sweater you’re wearing.” He said sweetly.

Papyrus smiled, laughing softly. “Thank you.” He answered.

Grillby smiled back, still focusing as much as he could on his own breathing. “Now, what do you say I pack up those burgers for you and your brother? That way you can enjoy them when he gets back home.” Grillby suggested, brushing away a tear from Papyrus’ cheek. He remembered his mother doing something similar for him when he was younger.

Papyrus nodded in agreement, and pulled himself in close again. “Thank you Grillby.” He said once again. He then let go, stepping off of Grillby’s leg.

Grillby stood up. “Just let me go and get the take-out bags from behind the counter.” He said, noticing his father had dutifully taken over the bar. Papyrus nodded again. Grillby went around the counter and over to his father. “Can you close tonight?” He took a couple take-out bags out as he spoke, and his father nodded.

“Take care of the kid Grillby.” His father replied. Grillby nodded.

He unfastened his apron, placing it on the counter with the dishwashing gloves and walking over to Papyrus. He was still stood in the same spot Grillby had left him. He was clutching his own hand, looking up at Grillby for comfort. Still needed it huh? “Come on over to the table.” Grillby said, his voice going back to how quiet it usually is.

Papyrus reached up, grabbing Grillby’s free hand. Grillby let his hand sit slack for a moment before remembering. Sans and Papyrus always held hands. Maybe he just needed a hand to hold right now.

Grillby paused for moment, looking down at Papyrus. His eyes weren’t glowing as much as they had been a moment ago but the soft red glow was still there. He wrapped his hand around Papyrus’, careful not to squeeze too tight. He then walked forward, Papyrus walking along behind him but almost getting dragged. He shortened his steps.

He reached the table and gestured for Papyrus to take a seat while he packaged everything. “Do Sans and Gaster do this often?” He asked gently, folding the burgers into a paper wrapping.

Papyrus wiped the cavity where his nose would be with his sleeve. “They never used to. Sans tells me it’s nothing to worry about but they’ve been getting so mean to each other. They just never do it with me around.” Papyrus answered. Grillby gave him a sympathetic look.  
He slid the burgers into their respective bags, filling one with the leftover fries. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He said, folding up the bags so that they wouldn’t let the cold in and scooping them both into one arm. “Would you like me to walk you home Papyrus?” He offered.

Papyrus nodded. Grillby smiled softly at him, scooting off of the chair and extending his free hand out for Papyrus to take. Papyrus stood up, taking Grillby’s hand and walking with him out the door. Grillby had to fight back a shudder. It was cold out today. “I’m going to need you to show me to your house Papyrus. I don’t know where you live.” Grillby said, looking around and seeing if he could spot any trace of movement.

He saw Papyrus look around, identifying where he was and then taking a step forward. “It’s over here.” Papyrus said quietly. He began walking, and Grillby followed behind, never letting his hand slip. He tried to focus most of his body heat to where the burgers were held against his chest, keeping them warm and preventing himself from accidentally hurting Papyrus. They weren’t walking very long before they reached a quaint looking house, with a shed beside it.

Papyrus fumbled with his keys, trying each one until one finally opened the front door. He walked inside, wiping his shoes on a rather old looking rug. He didn’t let go of Grillby’s hand, and Grillby found himself doing similarly, wiping off his shoes on the mat, then taking them off and placing them on the shoe rack beside the door.

He felt along the wall for a light switch, finding one and clicking it on. The house was impeccable. Looking through the living room, the kitchen looked like it had never been used, and there wasn’t a single scratch on any of the furniture. All of it was new. Papyrus remained at the door, waiting for Grillby to finish.

Once Grillby had put away his shoes, he knelt down to talk to Papyrus. “Where do you normally put leftovers Papyrus?” He asked, waiting patiently for an answer.

“In the kitchen I think. That is where the food goes.” Papyrus answered, pointing in the direction of the kitchen.

Grillby smiled. “Thank you Papyrus. Why don’t you take a seat on the couch while I put all this away?”

Papyrus nodded, and did what Grillby said, sitting there with his feet curled up on the cushions. Grillby walked into the kitchen, looking around. He opened the fridge, knowing the food would spoil if it didn’t go in there.

The shelves were filled with various vials with unknown substances filling each one. Scientists, he supposed. It struck him as strange that there was no food in the fridge though. What were they eating all day? What did they have for breakfast in the mornings? It explained why they were such regulars at the bar. Perhaps it wouldn’t be bad if the food were to stay out for a while. He wasn’t eager to make anyone upset after all.

After placing the bags on the counter, Grillby went back to the living room. Papyrus was still sat on the couch. Grillby sat beside him, watching him carefully. He seemed tired, but his eyes were still glowing. Maybe getting to bed would help. He only had what Sans told him about glowing to go off of, and he had no clue how to help neutralize or change the colours. “Let me know if you need anything Papyrus.” Grillby said, leaning back on the couch. Maybe Papyrus had a better idea than he did.

He kind of liked the quiet after the hustle and bustle of the bar. Papyrus shifted closer to him. He wanted to be close to someone, of course. It intrigued Grillby how physical Papyrus was. Grillby wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in close to his side. They remained like that for a long while, Papyrus’ eyes losing all the red and settling back down to their usual white. “Grillby?” Papyrus yawned, “Sans always reads me a bed time story after I get ready to go to sleep.”

“He does?” Grillby replied, looking down at Papyrus. He looked exhausted.

Papyrus nodded. “Would you mind reading me a bedtime story. I don’t know when they’ll be back, if they’ll be back.”

Grillby winced, there was still sadness in his voice. “They will be back, you just need to give them time.” He said. “Would you like to get ready for bed then Papyrus?”

Papyrus nodded.

Grillby watched him struggle to his feet, staggering slightly. He sighed, reaching forward and picking Papyrus up. Too tired to walk. He thought he remembered Sans saying something about how excessive glowing could really tire a skeleton out. If that were the case, Papyrus must be shattered. He carried Papyrus up the stairs, following his instructions and taking him into his room. Grillby diverted his eyes to the corner of the room while Papyrus got changed into his pyjamas, and helped with tucking him into bed the best he remembered how. It had been years.

“What book does Sans normally read?” Grillby asked. He peered through the bookshelf, reading all the titles. There were some interesting sounding books in here.

“I like fluffy bunny best.” Papyrus mumbled tiredly. Grillby skimmed through for it, finding it placed on top of the bookshelf. He picked it up, turning around. There was a lip on the edge of Papyrus’ bed, perfect to sit on. The bed itself was shaped like a race car. Grillby had to admit, that was pretty cool.

He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against the headboard and opening the book so that he could read it. “Where is fluffy bunny?” He read, this book was much simpler than he’d imagined. It made sense why Papyrus had the rabbit on his sweater now too. His favourite book had a bunny as the main character.

“Can I see the pictures too Grillby?” Papyrus yawned again, scooting closer.

Grillby leaned his elbow on the bed, angling the book so that both he and Papyrus could read and see the pictures. “Is fluffy bunny under the bed?” He smiled, taking his time reading it.

He wondered when someone would come back.


	3. Chapter 3

Grillby had stayed awake once Papyrus fell asleep, not daring to move far from his bedside. What if something went wrong? He wasn’t willing to risk anything. He had kept himself up reading every book on Papyrus’ bookshelf, they were short, but they passed the time.

It wasn’t soon after a dozen books that Grillby heard a noise, a sudden distortion of air in the room beside this one. He heard heavy breathing, and then a short stream of muted curse words.

Grillby rose from where he was sat, glancing down at Papyrus. Out like a light. Thank goodness for that. He crept closer to the door. Still, he could hear whoever was in the next room. “Piece of… come on… god… no…”

He walked around to the door to the other room. “No… please… come on… right now?” It sounded like Sans. “Get away… I’m busy.” It sounded like he was crying.

Grillby didn’t know what to do. His heart was pounding in his chest. Something was wrong. Gently, he raised a fist, knocking on the door.

Sans stopped whatever he was doing, going completely silent. Grillby heard what sounded like a scuffle to get up. “Leave me alone, I’m fine.” He muttered to something in the room with him, seeming to stumble a bit. Grillby held his breath, holding his hands in front of him. He heard the abnormal footsteps approaching the door, and then the twisting of the doorknob. He had his eyes closed when he tugged it open. “I’m sorry Pap, I didn’t mean to-.” He opened his eyes and stopped mid sentence.

He looked in shock at what he was seeing. One of his eyes were still glowing bright blue, though both were open. The other eye was completely black, not even a hint of light showed, just a strange red liquid leaking out from the bottom of the eye socket. There were two weird looking animal skulls with bright blue eyes hovering behind him too. “Grillby?” He muttered, placing a hand on his head and leaning heavily against the doorframe. “Jeez, Grillbz, wish I’d have known you’d be here. I’d’ve made myself look more presentable. How long have you been her anyways?” Sans asked, voice sounding somewhat forced. Tears were still glistening on his skull.

Grillby looked him over, he had rips in all of his clothing and cracks all along his arms and legs. He looked like he’d been thrown around and then left for dead, and the two floating skull things behind didn’t look much better. “Oh my, Sans,” Grillby crouched down, reaching out a hand to offer a support, “are you all right?”

Sans winced as he pushed himself off of the door. He didn’t take Grillby’s hand, instead standing upright in a wobbly fashion. “Ah me? Never better! Just a couple of scrapes, ain’t nothing serious.” Sans chuckled, but even that seemed to pain him. His legs were shaking badly. He began to lose his balance slightly.

The skulls rushed forward, one under each arm, holding him up. Grillby shook his head. “Nothing serious?” He sighed, not knowing what to do. From the looks of things, Sans desperately needed someone to help him, but Grillby didn’t know how different skeleton physiology was from that of other monsters. “Sans, would you allow me to help you? I know some healing magic, perhaps I could be of assistance?”

Sans smiled as wide as he could. “I’m serious Grillby, I’m good, just leave me-.” One of the skulls shoved him abruptly forward, sending him tumbling towards Grillby. He grunted as he put his foot down to stop himself, inhaling sharply and falling to his knees. His breaths were shaking.

Grillby looked down at him. Slowly he lowered himself down to his knees, placing both hands on Sans’ shoulders and pushing to hold him up. Sans stared at the floor, the red liquid spilling from his right eye socket dripping onto the floor. “Please Sans.” Grillby whispered, trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible. “I want to help you.”

Sans didn’t look up at him for a long time. Grillby waited patiently, trying to look at his face. His breathing was starting to level out again, but his shivering didn’t wear off. “Alright.” Sans muttered begrudgingly. “The first aid kit is downstairs in the kitchen.” He tried to push himself up to his feet again, one of the skulls grabbed his hood between their teeth, hauling him up. He sighed, then looked to the other one. “Can you go grab that? You know the house better than Grillby does.”

Grillby watched as the skull seemed to nod, carefully floating past Grillby and down the stairs. Grillby watched it go. He was in awe. Sans limped back into his room, the second skull keeping him on his feet. Grillby followed behind. “You didn’t answer my question by the way, how long have you been here?” Sans asked again.

“I walked Papyrus home from the bar after you two left. He wouldn’t let go of my hand though, so I put him to bed and decided to wait for one of you two to show up.” Grillby replied, looking around Sans’ room. Sans took a seat on the edge of the bed, and the skull released his hood, floating into the corner of the room, watching Grillby. It was slightly unnerving.

Sans chuckled to himself. “Seriously?” Grillby knelt in front of him, taking time to more fully assess the extent of the injuries. It looked like it was mostly little cracks, nothing too serious. There were a few that seemed more painful than others though. He hoped his magic would have an effect on Sans.

“I didn’t want him waking up alone.” Grillby replied, bringing a hand up to the side of Sans’ face to angle it to better look at his injuries. Sans winced, but kept staring forward. “He seemed really scared when the two of you disappeared, what was that all about anyways?”

The other skull floated in with a first aid kit clenched tightly between its teeth. “It’s a long story Grillby.” He sighed, glancing away and reaching up an arm toward the skull. “I can take that.” The skull handed him the first aid kit, which Sans then placed on his lap. “Sorry about these guys, I don’t want to put them back while they’re so damaged, they’ll stay out of your way though.” He laughed, wincing slightly.

Grillby smiled softly. “I do not mind listening to a long story Sans, and I understand, I’ll do what I can for all three of you.” He said, opening the first aid kid and rooting through. He was unfamiliar with a few things in it, figuring it was skeleton specific, but applied what he knew. “Do you have a better light?”

Sans watched as Grillby got started on his arms. “I have one but the bulb is fried, haven’t gotten around to changing it yet.” He said, lifting his arm so Grillby could better see it. “And when I say that it’s a long story, I mean it’s a really long story.”

Grillby looked up at Sans. “Maybe you could just tell me what happened today then, so I have a better idea of how to help you?” He offered, running his thumb along a crack in Sans’ arm and focusing his magic there. He saw the tinge in the room go from orange to green, and smiled. So it was compatible with Sans. The crack must’ve been several days old though, as it took a bit longer to heal. Grillby frowned.

“Well,” Sans said, taking a deep breath, “I got in a fight with Gaster. He scraped me up a bit but it’s nothing important.” He seemed to be observing Grillby, reaching up with his other hand and brushing it along Grillby’s cheek. Grillby felt his heart pound a bit harder in his chest, but brushed it off.

He was busy making observations regarding Grillby, he hardly reacted when he got to work on a fresh crack. Sans squinted a bit, but otherwise showed no reaction. “Some of these cracks are almost a week old. I take it you and Gaster get in a lot of fights? Over what, might I ask?”

Sans swallowed hard, pulling his hand away from the side of Grillby’s face. “Science stuff.” He replied quickly. One of the skulls floated forward, nestling into his side. Grillby watched it curiously. “I mean, I guess we fight fairly often, but we have conflicting opinions, it’s perfectly normal.” Sans started to stroke the skull, letting it settle down on the bed beside him. It made what seemed to be a purring noise, seeming content.

“I am sure. What kind of conflicting opinions?” Grillby asked. He took Sans’ hand in his own, noticing that some of the knuckles were badly injured. He felt his heart pound again.What was with his nerves today. He took a deep breath, closing his other hand around it, focusing all of his energy into it and looking at Sans. That eye was still leaking red liquid, and the other one seemed to be going a little blue.

He was uncomfortable. “I just don’t agree with some of his practice, that’s all Grillby.” He muttered, not breaking eye contact this time. “I’m sorry, I don’t feel like sharing much else. Maybe some other time, when it’s just the two of us, but right now?” He trailed off, looking to the skulls. He sighed softly, clenching his free hand into a fist. “It’s been a rough night Grillby. I’m just glad I got home.”

Grillby was completely silent, looking at Sans sympathetically. If what had happened was so intense that Sans didn’t feel capable to discuss it, maybe silence was best. He concentrated on his work, Sans no longer bothering to make observations regarding the colour of his flame. He just sat there, with head hung low, looking at Grillby’s hands.

The skull that was curled into Sans was still purring, and had its eye sockets closed. “What are the skulls, Sans?” Grillby asked quietly. He had been wondering since he first saw them.

Sans didn’t shift from where he was sat. “They’re blasters.” He replied. “Gaster insists they’re just tools, but they seem sentient enough. They have personalities, y’know?” He ran his hand along the nose of the one which had fallen asleep beside him. It made that odd rattling noise again. “They’re sort of like pets, but generally speaking you don’t have to feed them. They can just be summoned at will. Don’t take much effort once you get the hang of it either.”

Grillby let go of Sans’ hand once he felt his work was done. He watched the blaster curiously. It opened one of it’s eyes, looking at Grillby. Grillby extended his hand out. It raised its nose, sniffing his hand curiously before settling back down on the bed. Gently, he ran his hand along the creature’s nose. Sans seemed tense. Grillby continued to run his hand along the bridge of its nose, watching as it gradually settled back down, shutting it’s eyes. “So, you are expending effort to keep them active right now?” Grillby asked, moving closer and brushing his spare hand over injuries, attempting to heal them.

The blaster opened its eyes once again, staring at Grillby as he worked. Sans moved his good hand up to his chest. He started breathing slightly harder than usual. “A little bit, yea, but it’s nothing big.” Sans replied, sounding a little distant. Grillby kept working on the blaster quietly, curious about it, gently brushing over as many injuries as he could. It was somewhat like a pet, wasn’t it?

Grillby glanced back over at Sans after a moment, seeing him with a frown on his face and his good hand clutching at the fabric of his hoody. He stopped his work on the blaster “Sans? Are you all right?” He asked, quickly moving away from both of them.  
“I’m fine.” He said, emotions unreadable in this state.

“What is going on, are you all right, do you need anything?” Grillby asked, looking Sans over, nothing seemed to look worse than it had previously been.

Sans shook his head. “No, no, it’s just.” He took a deep breath, closing his eye tighter before opening them a bit. His eye was bright pink. “Because Blasters are manifestations of magic, they are created through a monster’s soul. That being said, any exterior contact with a soul can create some very interesting results, varying from monster to monster, but since not many monsters have attacks that expose their soul to others it is a rare occurrence in most species.” Sans explained, swallowing hard and slackening his grip on his chest. “Generally speaking, I haven’t experienced much contact from anyone outside of Papyrus and, so the unfamiliarity mixed with the mending was,” he sighed, laughing softly to himself, “was kind of a lot to handle.”

Grillby blinked quietly, trying to make sense of what Sans was saying. Blasters exposed his soul? That put his soul at risk, what would happen if a blaster shattered? Would that damage his soul? He brought his hand up to meet Sans’, covering his soul in his ribcage. If Sans’ blaster shattered, would his soul shatter too? He felt a pang in his chest. He didn’t like the idea of Sans burning out. Grillby felt a slight buzz in his hand. His soul was giving off some sort of energy, just soft static. “You shouldn’t let your soul be so vulnerable, you’ll shatter it if you aren’t careful. I wouldn’t want you to turn to dust as well.” He said, looking up and into Sans’ eye.

Sans looked lost. Grillby quickly resumed his work, making good progress on Sans’ other arm. “I’ll try and be more careful next time, I guess.” He mumbled, watching Grillby at work once again. It was steady progress. He moved on to Sans’ legs, thankfully in better condition than the rest of him. Grillby lifted Sans’ leg, resting it on his knee so that he could work on it. Sans sat still, his second blaster creeping gradually closer.

Sans kept watching Grillby, his blasters seeming equally as curious as he was. Grillby smiled to himself, mending all the nicks along his calf. He could feel the effects of his efforts wearing on him slightly, skipping over a couple cracks that looked like they’d mend on their own easy enough before stopping for a moment.

He turned his head, trying to hide a yawn. Sans chuckled. “You’ve had a long night, it’s all right if you need to call it quits. You’ve done a lot more than I thought you would.” He said, voice sounding soothing as he spoke. His eye was still glowing a soft pink. Grillby wondered what it meant.

Grillby looked up at him, shaking his head. “I can still do more.” He said, leaving his hands by his side for a moment and letting his flames return to their normal colour. “I just need a minute to recover.” He wiped his sleeve along his forehead, placing his hands back down on his knees and leaning into them.

“Sure thing. Just make sure you don’t _burn out_ , okay?” Sans joked. Grillby paused, thinking to himself. Burn out? He was made of fire, if he were to burn out, he would die. In the context though, it was implied he shouldn’t work himself to the point of exhaustion. He stopped thinking for a moment. He shouldn’t burn out. Grillby smiled, laughing softly to himself. Because he was made of fire. He understood now.  
Sans started to chuckle as well, and before Grillby could stop himself, he began laughing. He felt it in his abdomen and his stomach. He hadn’t laughed like this in ages. “I shouldn’t burn out huh?” He teased, taking off his glasses. His eyes had started watering slightly. He dabbed away the tears with a finger, struggle to compose himself. “Suppose I walked right into that one, didn’t I?” He said, smiling as he untucked his shirt to clean his glasses.

The pink in Sans’ eye just intensified, and he beamed at Grillby. “I’m just glad someone finds my jokes _humerus_.” He continued. Grillby burst into laughter again, not even trying to contain himself.

“My goodness Sans. Must you really _pun_ -ish me with these terrible jokes?” Grillby joked.

Sans leaned in. “Well I’ll be darned, I thought it was a real _rib tickler_.” He exclaimed.

Grillby tried to force down his laughter and keep a straight face, but it wasn’t really a bad thing to fight. He laughed. He clutched his stomach and he laughed. He really hadn’t laughed like this in years.

Perhaps it was the combination of it being late and the excessive social interaction. He didn’t mind this though. He waited for his laughter to dwindle out. Sans had bent over his knees, clutching his stomach as well. “I swear,” he said between chuckles, “I have never heard anyone laugh that much about my puns before.”

Grillby was still trying to control his laughter. “I wasn’t expecting it from you.” He replied, wiping even more tears from his eyes. He put his glasses back on, still smiling massively.

Sans scoffed. “Wasn’t expecting puns? From the guy who owns at least five science pun t-shirts. Listen Grillby, I dunno what to tell you.” He teased, leaning on his knees. His eye was still glowing pink, of anything more solidly than before.

Grillby looked him over, trying to figure out what else might need his attention before he ran out of magic. Sans just seemed happy staring at him. Grillby felt his heart pounding again. He took a deep breath. “Just your other blaster and your eye socket then?” Grillby asked.

The blaster floated tentatively closer. “You don’t need to worry about the eye socket. I don’t think that’ll heal anytime soon.” Sans replied, ushering the blaster closer.

Gradually, the blaster settled beside Sans, watching Grillby’s every move. Sans placed his hand on its nose, whispering for it to calm down. Grillby reached forward, doing the same thing he did with the other blaster. First he let it identify him, and then began to run his hand along it’s nose, gently, getting it accustomed to his touch. Sans watched this time, still quite tense, but more familiar with whatever it was that had made him uncomfortable before. Delicately, Grillby began healing the blaster, using his other hand. It settled down nicely, making the same odd purring noise as the other one.

Grillby pulled away his hands, noticing a faint glow emerging from the neck of the hoody. “Alright, time to go back now and get some rest.” He murmured faintly. The blasters began to fade away, almost disappearing into his hands. Grillby sat back and watched, seeing the glow in Sans’ eye intensify momentarily then fade again.

Sans looked up at Grillby. “That saves me a lot of explaining tomorrow morning.” He chuckled. Grillby reached his hand forward, placing it where Sans’ soul was once again. It was vibrating, more than it had been before. Sans looked slightly surprised, but settled for just placing his hand overtop of Grillby’s.

Grillby felt his heat growing. “Pardon me, it was just, very strange to me.” He stammered, heart pounding once again. Sans just smiled back at him, seeming unbothered by the contact, or maybe even happy. All Grillby knew was that he felt embarrassed, he should exert more control. He tugged his hand back away. “Your eye now, that is it, right?”

“You can try all you like, I don’t know how much of a difference it’ll make.” Sans said, leaning on his knees. Grillby reached up, taking both sides of Sans’ head in his hands. He would certainly try. He felt his heart pounding again, persistently. He’d have to brush up on his regular breathing exercises when he got home, he normally had better control than this.

Sans was looking into his eyes as he moved closer, facial features seeming softer than before. Grillby wanted to see if making the distance between them shorter made the magic more potent. He didn’t really know how he was going to do this. He wasn’t familiar with this kind of healing

He tried focusing on the eye socket, willing his energy to go towards it and help heal. Sans watched him, eye still glowing pink. “Gaster broke it.” Sans said quietly. “It was an experiment. Didn’t go as planned, but it was an experiment.”

Grillby frowned, still trying to focus his energy. “Said it would help.” Sans continued. He seemed to be fighting something. Grillby felt it too. Exhaustion. He was tired. So very tired. He yawned,

Grillby kept his breathing consistent. He needed to focus. Sans’ eyes were starting to close.

He fell forward, Grillby catching him and waiting for a moment. His chest ached, and his heart pounded, but it didn’t seem all that bad. That was strange. He pulled Sans back into his bed, placing his head on the pillow and pulling the blankets over top of him.

His hand rested on top of Sans’ chest momentarily. He still felt that slight buzz of energy. He yawned. He needed to get home. He took a minute to look at Sans, fast asleep in his bed.

Gently, his hand brushed away from Sans’ pulling himself to his feet and wandering down the stairs. He had to get home.

He slipped on his shoes, and opened the door, closing it behind him, and heading out into the snow.


End file.
